Salvaging Dean
by WhisperedMemories
Summary: It's hard to put things back together when you have nothing to keep it in place. It's hard when the glue that holds you together no longer exists. Why make the effort when you're not worth saving?
1. We are all

_Track One_

"_But your thoughts will soon be wandering /The way they always do /When you're ridin' sixteen hours/And there's nothin' much to do /And you don't feel much like ridin', /You just wish the trip was through" ~ Bob Seger 'Turn the Page'_

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He doesn't really know a damn thing.

Sam's asleep and I can't remember the last time I told him the whole truth…I didn't even tell him everything about Hell. I've been lying for so long that it's instinct now.

"Dean?"

I look over to the other bed and he's rubbing his bleary eyes to focus on me.

"It's two-thirty Dean."

No 'what the hell are you doing up?' or 'Why did you turn the TV on?' just a simple statement of the time. How he sleeps, despite the fact that he's been through more than me, I'll never know.

"I know."

"Go to sleep."

I wish I could, but every time I close my eyes, I see Cas's desperate face looking at me before sinking under the water. I see Sam screaming out my name in terror as he struggles to decipher what's real and what's not. I see my hands, covered in the blood of those I have killed without reason.

"Nah, besides, there's a Dr. Sexy marathon on."

"Dean."

I roll my eyes at him, disguising how tired I actually am. I've slept about five hours in the last three days. He makes patented bitch-face #13, which is his "Don't lie to me or I'll stomp your ass" look. I sigh and roll over, pulling the covers over my head.

The speed at which I fall asleep in amazing.

_It's a steady rhythm, his heartbeat. It's driving me insane._

_I look around blindly, like an animal, instinctively knowing that my eyes are black. I'm slicing and pulling and crunching. The soul that my arm is elbow deep in screams and I hiss at her, baring my teeth. Blood spatters my face and my tongue flicks out to lick it._

_A virgin. How boring._

_The heartbeat gets louder and I wave my hand absently around my head, trying to drive the noise away. It does nothing and I continue my work, only annoyed as pain is impossible now. A new soul is placed before me, a young boy about eighteen or nineteen. He looks up at me with cold eyes, almost colder than mine. I lift up my arm, blade flashing, when the noise becomes so loud that my head nearly bursts._

_I cry out, and inhuman feral growl that pierces the thick, sulfurous air around me. The beating is so loud! I can't take it! This pain! And then light, light so bright that for a moment I think of a blue sky…a sky from when I was alive and the sun. _

_And then…and then wings, wings that I see are the source of the noise. It wasn't a heartbeat, it was two massive wings beating through the air. A glowing figure with mesmerizing blue eyes reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. It burns! The fires of a thousand stars burn through me and I arch up, light bursting from my eyes and mouth._

"_You are saved, Dean Winchester."_

_And I open my eyes to a pine box._

"Dean!"

I shoot up, gasping for breath as I look around in confusion. Sam is kneeling in front of me, his face wrinkled in concern. I shake my head and gently push him away.

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me Dean. I know that look; I see it on me every day in the mirror."

"_I'm fine."_

This is Dean speak for "Drop it." He would do well to heed it at the moment. Sam nodded, but came over and sat by my feet at the end of the bed. I raised an eyebrow at him. He hadn't done that since we were kids.

"Dean…it's okay if you want to talk about Cas."

"Leave. It." I ground out, glaring at him. He knew better than to bring up the angel.

"You can't hide it from me y'know," he said, giving me that shitty know-it-all glare that he'd been giving me since he was old enough to read.

"Hide what?"

"You love him."

Was he teasing me?

"Sam, I don't care if you are crazy, I'm about to kick your ass."

"You do!"

"Of course, he's my friend! Friends love each other!"

"Bullshit. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You love him like I loved Jess."

No I don't…do I? Thoughts began to race through my head, causing my heart to pound and heat to rise in my cheeks.

"You areeeee!" sing-songed Sam. "You know how I can tell?"

I looked up at him and he smirked. A chill went down my spine. There wasn't a shred of Sam in that smile. His eyes flashed black and he laughed.

"Because you sobbed your pathetic little heart out when he died. You hid it from Sam. You hid it from Bobby, but you can't hide from me Dean."

"Who are you?" I whispered, pushing against the headboard. I was fuckin' terrified, but I wasn't about to let this bastard intimidate me. "What's your name?"

"_Don't ya recognize me Dean?"_ hissed the Demon before he morphed from Sam to myself. His eyes glittered black, like bastardized diamonds, dark and cloudy with pure, unadulterated pleasure in my despair.

"_After all, you _were _me for all those years in Hell."_

And I opened my eyes to the darkness of the motel room, Sam still asleep next to me.

I drank.

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End recording one.

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	2. Born Dead

Track Two

"What I've felt/What I've known/Never shined through in what I've shown/Never free/Never me/So I dub thee UNFORGIVEN"

~Metallica "The Unforgiven"

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_It's raining._

_It's a storm really, with bright flashes of lightning and threatening growls of thunder._

_I know this place…it's the vision Zachariah showed me. The end of the world. Croatoan infected people wandering the streets in a regular Zombie Apocalypse setting. Me, the leader of a ragtag camp. Bobby dead._

_Cas human._

_Sam…Sam gone._

_I look around, taking note of my surroundings as those of the Sanitarium. It was quieter than last time, save for the numerous rumbles of thunder, but I could hear another sound above the rain. At first I thought it was the wind, high and keening as the trees bent over in the storm, but after a moment I realized it was someone crying._

_I took off in the direction of the lament, not because I thought I could help, but because it sounded so familiar. It led me to, where else, the garden where I had had my little bitchfight with Lucifer. When I saw who was in it, I froze._

_Cas was splayed out on top of my future self's body, blood dripping from his mouth and from a gaping wound in his side, but he seemed to pay no attention to it. The loud, desperate cries are coming from him and he's clutching at the shirt of my older body's corpse. He reached a bloodied hand up to cup my face and I hear the most broken sob yet come from his throat, quieter, yet sadder, than the rest._

"_Dean no. No, no, no," he cries, gently stroking my corpse's cheekbone which leaves streaks of blood on my face, startlingly crimson against the waxy pallor of death. "I'm so sorry."_

_He buries his head under older Dean's chin, but not before he pulls something out from under the collar of his shirt. Something that makes me gasp sharply. It's my amulet. He shakily grips it in his hand before reaching down to lace his fingers with the stiff, cold ones of my older version's dead hand. He pulls it closer until it's clutched against his chest, which is heaving from the effort of drawing breath._

"_I love you. I will always love you," he said, pulling my dead hand forward to kiss its knuckles. And I want to run over, to shake him and slap him. It's my fault he's here, dying of internal bleeding, human no less, and in excruciating pain._

_But I can't move._

_I can see him getting weaker; his eyelids start to flutter as the permanent unconsciousness begins to take over. He rests he head on older Dean's stiff shoulder, still clutching his hand tight to his chest, the amulet's leather thong wrapped around his fingers._

"_I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago Dean. You didn't have to give me this. You could have given me a dead leaf and I would have forgiven you."_

_And something changes in my chest. Something starts to lift up, my heart beats easier…_

"_I don't even know if we can meet on the other side, with what I've done. You said you'd be waiting…you may be waiting forever. I'm sorry."_

_And he fell silent, drawing in three more shuddering breaths before he fell still, his blue eyes vacant as he stared up at my older self's corpse. I felt something die in my chest; a painful, agonizing death._

_Blank green eyes, my own eyes, stared at me with unbridled fury. How a dead man could achieve such a thing, I'll never know._

_And that's when I feel something bubble up in my chest, and it's not guilt. I walk over to where Cas and I lay tangled together in a gruesome embrace, and shut both our eyes. My future self's skin is icy cold, but Cas' is still warm. I run a hand through his hair, soaked with rain, but still the familiar dark, almost black, brown that I know._

"_I'm sorry too," I whisper. "This isn't real. We stopped this. But I guess we always find some way to fuck things up, don't we? I'm sorry Cas."_

And I opened my eyes to face another day…a day where Cas was also dead.

A terrible day.

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End Track Two.


	3. The end exists

Track Three

"I'm on the outside/I'm lookin' in/ I can see through you, see the real you/Because inside you're ugly/ Ugly like me"

~ Staind "Outside"

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Sam's breath causes the window to fog as he dozes against it while I drive. It's late, past midnight, but I can't stop. I'm too fucking scared to.

I didn't tell him about the pair of eyes I saw lurking outside our hotel room. Eyes burning red with greed for him. They're all after him, all the demons, all the ghosts, all the monsters.

There's something about Sam that causes everyone and everything in this world to gravitate towards him.

It must be his heart. The kid's got a heart three sizes bigger than the goddamned Grinch at the end of the movie. He used to bring home animals, birds, squirrels, freakin ladybugs you name it, that would be hurt and beg me and dad to fix them. Dad eventually got tired of it and snapped at him, but per the usual, I could never say no to his pleading. Not even when he was getting himself beat up for people he didn't know.

The demons are after him to corrupt him.

The ghosts are after him to plead for his help.

The monsters look to him as their sort of hero, one who has managed to live amongst the humans unnoticed.

But Sam isn't a monster.

I lied during those tense days during Lucifer's Rising. I fucked up. Again. I drove him off because I was pissed, just like I always do.

He could never be a monster. Not that dimple-faced kid who I used to sleep in the crib with. Not that troubled teenager who always managed to crack me up when I was down. Not the heart-broken man he would grow up to be.

Never.

"_About time too. You're really starting to be a pain in my ass."_

I shook the image of a demonic Sam out of my head. That was never going to happen again. I wouldn't let it happen.

"Dean?"

I turned, watching his face carefully as Sam opened his sleep crusted eyes to peer blearily around at his surroundings.

"Yeah?"

"Dude, pull over and sleep or let me drive. Something. You've been driving for ten hours."

"Nah, I'm fine."

"No you're not. Pull over. Now."

"No."

"I'll open the door."

I glared at him and he stared back, one hand resting threateningly over the door handle.

"You wouldn't."

"I would. Now stop the damned car."

I fought internally for a moment, hating that I was going to give in. his hand pulled the handle halfway out.

I pulled over.

"There. Now go to sleep or let me drive."

"I'm fine."

"That's bullshit."

I snorted. "What's with you lately? You're up my ass about everything from what I'm eating to this whole 'Sleep Dean! Sleep or I'll bitch until the cows come home!' shit."

"Hello, I suffered from insomnia. Twice. Shit messes with your brain. And if you don't mind, I'd rather not be in the car when you finally knock out and wrap us around a tree."

I pondered what he said, grudgingly acknowledging that he was right, before sighing and killing the engine.

"Fine. Move your ass to the backseat."

If I was being forced to sleep, I was going to be as comfortable as possible. Sam smirked and clambered into the back of the impala, going to sleep as soon as his head tilted back against the cushion. I laid down across the bench seat and shut my eyes.

Fuckin nightmares.

_Cas was dying._

_Again._

_His throat was…bitten. I knelt and picked up his limp body, only to reel back when he gasped and gurgled, struggling to breath. I managed to not drop him at the last moment, cradling him to my chest._

"_De..an."_

_I bent over, putting my ear close to him so I could hear._

"_Dean…S-am. Sam."_

"_Sam what?"_

_And then, with growing horror, I followed his weakly pointing hand to see Sam with blood smeared across his face. His eyes glowed white, a maniac grin meeting me horror with amusement._

"_What's the matter Dean? Afraid of little old me?"_

_Cas gasped again, clutching at his throat and I tried, in vain, to press my shirt against the wound, only to have him shudder and die in my arms. Not again. I can't take this anymore._

_No more death._

_Please._

_Sam walked over, still grinning. His eyes had receded from the blinding white to a now glowing, unearthly blue._

"_And you, you monster, you were going to kill me. Your own brother, all for the sake of a world already gone to shit."_

_And suddenly Cas was gone, replaced by a knife and it was Sam on the rack. Without looking in a mirror I knew my eyes were black. I knew I was in Hell. I raised the knife._

_He would be better off dead, safe and away from this shithole of a world._

_Away from me._

_I was just about to pierce Sam's heart when a glowing white hand shot out and caught my wrist. I turned and there was Cas, his blue eyes big and eyebrows knitted into his usual scowl._

"_Dean, you do not wish to do that," he said softly, pushing my hand away from my unconscious brother's body. And the screams of Hell faded away and I was left with Cas, his black wings fluttering softly in a non-existent wind. Hands came down to rest upon my shoulders._

"_I believe you to be a good brother Dean. The best. I have faith in you. Have faith in my faith."_

"_But-"_

_The angel held up a finger. "I'm not done. I don't have much time."_

"_Wait, you're really here? But you-you're not-"_

"_Shh Dean, and listen."_

_I fell silent, looking at him focused and attentive. He stepped forward and pressed his forehead to mine, keeping his eyes locked with mine._

"_Don't let the past hurt you. What has been done is done. You cannot change what has happened. But you can make a new future for yourself. For Sam…for me."_

"_Cas I-I'm so sorry."_

_Cas smiled at me and leaned forward, brushing his lips against my ear._

"_I know. It's okay Dean."_

"_It's okay."_

Sam was shaking my shoulder. I sighed, waited a few seconds, and then opened my eyes. I was met with Sam's concerned face peeking over the seat.

"You okay?"

"I'm…actually not," I said, surprising myself.

"Was it about Cas?"

"How'd you know?"

"You kept saying his name. Over and over. And you kept saying sorry."

There wasn't any judgment from him, no questions, and no assumptions. There was only slight curiosity, mostly an earnest need to help. I silently thanked God, if he was even listening, for giving me the best little brother a monster like me could have asked for.

"Yeah. I've been doing that a lot lately, haven't I?"

"You have. And you know Dean, I think you apologize for things you don't have to apologize for."

"Like what?"

"You used to say you were sorry we didn't have a mom when we were little. Her death wasn't your fault."

"I heard her hit the wall," I whispered, looking up at his unsurprisingly shocked face. "I told you I remember the fire, and the heat. But I heard her hit the wall. I was too scared to say anything. I could have gotten dad. I could have-"

A hand shot out and struck my face. I looked in shock at Sam, who was huffing angrily, his lip curled back in a snarl. As if I should be surprised.

"You're SO STUPID!" he spat. "You were what? Four? Who the hell expects a four year old to get out of their bed when they hear a scary noise at night? Are you that fucking retarded Dean?"

I felt my own eyes widen. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be pissed because I didn't save mom.

"Dean," he said voice softer now. "It's okay to be scared. It's okay."

"That's what Cas said," I whispered.

But it's not.

Never will be.

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End Tape Three


	4. Before Anything Begins

"**Monday's** child is fair of face

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

**Wednesday's** child is full of woe,

**Thursday's** child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day

Is bonny and blithe and good and gay."

~Nursery Rhyme (Sam was born on a Mon., Dean a Wed. and Castiel is the angel of Thursday)

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_There's a soft voice singing._

_Singing a lullaby…a Beatle's song._

"_Remember, to let her into your heart, so you can start, to make it better…"_

_And I was rocking, soft, warm arms around me, holding me close. There was the scent of cinnamon and cotton, and the warmth of sunlight drifting in from the window._

"_Dean? Dean, angel, you have to wake up now."_

I opened my eyes to a dark, chilly room. It smells like mildew, the sheets are rough (and dirty), and the only sound is the faint snoring coming from Sam's direction. I flip over to look at the clock and its only 2:30. I sigh and try to curl up, try to go back to sleep.

My eyes fluttered and I tried to picture my mom's face when she was alive, but I was having a really hard time. I can see her blonde hair, but not the dark brown streaks I knew it had. I can see her smile, but I can't remember if her eyes were green or blue. I've seen her picture a thousand times, I can remember almost everything she ever said to me.

But I can't see her face.

But in dreams…

In dreams.

"_Sweetheart, what's wrong?"_

"_I had a bad dream."_

"_Oh honey, come here."_

_I padded quietly across my parent's dark room and crawled into bed with my mother. Dad grunted, slightly annoyed, but ruffled my hair when I curled up between them. Mom reached out and drew me towards her, cradling me against her chest, her chin resting on my head. I reached up, wrapping my tiny arms around her._

"_It's alright baby. Momma's here. I won't let anything get you."_

_And Dad reached over, pulling us both close. _

_Is this even a memory? I don't remember this happening…am I making this up?_

"_Angels are watching over you," she whispers in my ear, smoothing my hair back. "And you, my angel, are watching over Sam."_

_Dad nods in agreement._

"_He's your responsibility Dean. Look out for Sam."_

"_We love you Dean. Protect him," said Mom._

_This was a dream…a dream. I don't remember this. I don't remember having two pairs of arms wrapped around me, cocooning me between them, shielding me from the outside world. I only remember doing that for Sam._

"_Sam."_

"_You must protect him."_

"_SAM!"_

A deafening crack of thunder jolted me awake, shaking the motel room as rain lashed down outside, another flash of lightning lighting up the room. I looked over and saw Sam curled up in a tight ball, hands over his ears. I thought nothing of it at first, he didn't really like storms, and I knew this. But then I heard him sobbing in fear, tears running down his face as he tried to escape under the blankets.

I got out of bed and went over to him and sat next to him. Others would find it weird that I would feel the need to comfort my twenty-nine year old brother because of a thunderstorm. Well, who the hell else was going to do it?

"Sam. Sammy, it's okay."

I reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. "It's okay."

His back became less taut, but I still saw hands clamped over his ears. Another rumble of thunder tore through the room and he flinched, tensing up again. I sighed and combed my fingers through his hair.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better," I sang softly. Sam turned towards me with surprise.

"You haven't sung in years."

I smirked, or tried to, leaning back against the headboard.

"I know. You hated it."

"What?"

"Remember, sixth grade? You threw a huge bitchfit about it," I said.

Indeed he had. I remember how incredulous I had been about it, tears, stomping and throwing things you name it, and the kid did it.

"Dean, I threw a fit because Dad yelled at you for singing it. I didn't want you to get in trouble."

I felt myself frown as the storm raged outside, lighting flashing and thunder rumbling again, sending Sam's hands back over his ears. A gesture I was familiar with...

"_Dammit boy, I told you to stop singing that!"_

"_But Dad-"_

"_Enough, I don't want to hear it!"_

_I sighed, frowning. I had been a little more rebellious during my early teens and I screwed up my face into a scowl._

"_No."_

"_Dean…"_

"_Mom used to sing it, why can't I-"_

"_BECAUSE I SAID SO!" thundered Dad. "Sam's not a baby anymore and you need to stop!"_

_I had shrunk back from him, my eyes wide. Dad had been angry, he had shouted before, but I haven't seen him this loud since we were small, just after mom died. I remember seeing Sam in the corner, hands pressed over his ears, eyes focused on me and wide with fright…_

"I guess he did, didn't he? Look at you Sammy, watchin' your big bro's back."

"Someone has to Dean. You're too busy worrying about everyone else to look after your own ass."

"That's my job Sam."

"It's my job too."

But before I could retort, another thunderclap sounded but this one was so loud I heard ringing in my ears, unable to hear. Sam was up in an instant, shaking my shoulders, his mouth moving desperately but no sound coming out.

All I heard was buzzing.

Then…nothing.

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"_Oh, Wednesday's child, how full of woe you are. Come little lamb. Come."_

_I followed the voice, which belonged to a creature with huge midnight blue wings. I struggled to keep up, noticing that my limbs were smaller, the size of an eight year old._

"_You, you little lamb, have not yet met the child of Thursday. No, he still has far to go."_

_The creature stopped and turned, and I honestly couldn't describe his face. It shifted, one moment showing a beautiful blue heron, the next a stunning marble statue. Even then, it changed to show a handsome man, smiling and eyes shining with the stars of the universe, again shifting to reveal a stern-faced general, helmet crested magnificently with feathers._

"_Who are you?" I asked, looking up at him._

_He put a finger to his lips and winked. "All in good time little lamb. Perhaps in Sunday's time."_

_I found myself nodding in acceptance, reaching up to take the creature's hand. He held on tightly, his long hands alien in that they only had three fingers, but gentle and warm. He led me forward and our surroundings blurred from the neutral gray to a brilliantly colored marsh. _

_I could hear the ocean far away, gently washing against the shore, the soft cries of gulls echoing above us. He led me further into the grass, the tall foliage coming up to my waist as we moved._

"_Where are we going?"_

"_To find your brother."_

"_Sam?"_

"_Yes. Perhaps Adam too."_

_Adam. I hadn't thought about Adam. Not in years. Guilt ran through me before I saw the wide expanse of water before and the child in me grew excited._

"_Oh wow!" I squealed, running across the hot sand, and splashing into the waves. The smell of salt water washed over me, a soft, warm breeze ruffling my hair as I jumped around. It was such a soothing feeling._

"_Oh little Wednesday it gives me great joy to see you so happy," said the creature, smiling at me and kneeling down to test the water with his finger. "But we must go further down the shore."_

"_Okay," I said, clambering out of the waves, which reluctantly let me go back onto dry land, the tide only slightly tugging on my legs. I took his hand again and we started to go further down the beach, the sun starting to sink as the afternoon wore on._

"_Look little lamb! There he is, there!" cried the winged man, pointing ahead. I looked and saw Sam's tousled curls as he played in the sand. He was small, couldn't be more than four, and his chubby face stretched into a smile when he saw me._

"_DE!"_

_I ran forward, opening my arms to him and his tiny arms held me tight, his face burrowing into my chest. He smelled like our mom, like cinnamon and clean laundry, which was a slightly flowery smell._

"_Hi Sammy."_

"_I miss you!"_

"_I missed you too," I said, laughing and ruffling his hair. The creature came over, his face flickering between that of a heron and the handsome smiling man, and knelt down._

"_Hello little Monday, hello beautiful child," said the winged creature. He was right; Sam had always been a handsome kid. I had, just like Missouri said, been pretty goofy looking until I was twelve._

_Sam drew back, hiding behind me, but I gently pushed him forward. It felt strange to be taller than him again._

"_It's okay Sam, he's a good guy."_

"_Hi," murmured Sam, looking up at the creature. "Are you an angel?"_

"_Hmph," said the creature, chuckling quietly. "I am."_

"_Whas yer name?"_

"_That is for you to figure out, little one."_

"_Oh."_

_I took Sam's hand, his tiny one fitting easily in my palm. I had forgotten what this feels like, holding his hand like a parent, guiding him through life as best I could._

"_Come little ones, let us go."_

_We followed the angel down the beach for a while, when suddenly the terrain became that of a meadow nestled between a glorious mountain range. There was only one type of flower, however. Thousands and thousands of poppies rippled across the field, ancient, low-growing trees here and there between the carpet of crimson._

"_Wow!" said Sam, yelling with delight and flinging himself among the flowers. "Look Dean! Flowers! Jus' like for Mumma!"_

_And he twirled about, spreading his arms wide, as if they were wings. I looked up at the angel._

"_Can I go too?"_

"_Of course."_

"_Am I dead?"_

_The angel knelt, and that was when I noticed his wide blue eyes. His pale alabaster face, for he had the skin of a marble statue, remained steadily content. His eyes shown bright, casting their light upon my face, like being bathed in the sun._

"_No my little lost Wednesday. Do not despair."_

"_Then where am I?"_

_His face changed, first to the general, then the heron. He held a finger up to his beak and winked. I turned and went after Sam, laughing as the flowers around us moved with us, never seeming to bend or break despite our not so gentle steps._

"_De! De look, a boy!"_

_Sam was about twenty feet away from me, staring down at something hidden by the tall blooms. I jogged over and peered down at the point of his focus and my eyebrows raised when I saw a boy a couple years older than me with messy black hair lying in the flowers, eyes closed._

"_Is he okay?"Asked Sam, reaching down to pat his cheek. "He okay Dean?"_

"_I don't know," I said, feeling compelled to reach down and place my fingers at his pulse. A soft, steady beat, more like a pulse than an organic heartbeat. He was alive._

"_Hey," I whispered. "Hey, wake up."_

_His eyelids flew back to reveal sky blue eyes._

"_Cas," I said. The boy looked over at me, before sitting up and tilting his head, not rather unlike a dog._

"_Dean?"_

_I smiled throwing my arms around his neck, pulling him close. My short arms fit easily around his skinny kid frame and I found myself marveling at crimson wings, like those of a cardinal sprouting from his back. I had only ever seen black wings on him, this was new._

"_Cas!" said Sam, his eyes squeezing shut in delight when he saw the angel's face, pulling him forward for a hug. "I miss-ed you too!"_

_Cas's wings fluttered as he looked at us and I saw his face shimmer, the image of a cardinal and a boy with constellations for skin hiding just behind the face I knew._

"_I'm glad to see you Sam," he said, voice much higher and softer. He blinked his wide blue eyes in confusion, then smiled and stood up, holding out his hands for me. I took them and he hauled me up, spinning me around like a child would at recess._

"_Hello little lost Thursday," murmured the other angel, a benevolent smile on his face as his galaxy filled eyes shimmered. Cas stopped spinning and looked up at the angel in wonder._

"_Hello," he said. "Who are you?"_

"_Who are you, little one?"_

"_I'm Castiel. An angel."_

"_Oh? What kind of angel?"_

"_A warrior. A warrior of God," said Cas softly. His crimson wings fluttered as the older angel chuckled._

"_Then I am you, little one. But a warrior no longer. No, I-" he broke off to look at me and Sam, who had positioned himself between me and Cas, holding each of our hands. "I have become a guardian."_

"_But how can you be me? I'm me!"_

_The other angel reached out a placating hand, but Cas flared his bright red wings and stepped in front of us._

"_Stop!" he commanded, and it was rather amusing to watch, with his voice high and childlike. "You can't have them! They're mine!"_

_The sky grew dark and suddenly I felt fear grip me and I held Sam close. He was tense, afraid, as he leaned against me._

_The other angel suddenly had a panicked look on his face, and that was when I saw that Cas's wings were turning black, big inky blotches of darkness spreading to cover the red. I backed away, dragging Sam with me. The blue-winged angel turned to look at me and I saw Cas' face, the grown-up face I knew, and his blue eyes were wide with desperation._

"_GO! Run little ones!"_

_The red-winged Cas whipped around and looked at us, his eyes solid black, teeth curving down to form hungry fangs._

"_Mine!"he hissed. "You're mine!" _

_He reached forward and the blue winged angel was at our side in an instant enveloping up in his wings. I picked up Sam, holding him close to me, staring up in fear. It was matched in those familiar blue eyes._

"_Cas?" I asked._

_Gentle arms curled around me._

"_Is that who I am?"_

_I heard terrible howling outside of his indigo wings, howling that sounded like a feral cat. Childlike fear arose in me, but Cas's pitiful face made me squash it._

"_Yes. You're Cas."_

_He held me closer and suddenly I was grown, his face buried in my hair, Sam gone. I reached up, wrapping my arms around him._

"_Why?"_

"_Because you are mine Dean, and I cannot let you go."_

"_Wha-"_

"_This is the place where we see our true selves. You, a child with a brother who isn't a psychological mess. The last time you were free of guilt, happy and content. Me, as a selfish, spoilt monster."_

"_But why am I here?"_

"_Because, Dean," said Cas, his morphing into the star-studded form that I knew he loved most. "I wanted you here with me."_

_Tearing noises filled the air and I saw Cas grimace in pain and I looked up to see blood flowing from his wings as black claws rent them apart. I reached up and clenched at one in worry, gently clinging to a long feather._

"_MINE! MINE, MINE!" screeched his childlike self._

"_Cas-"_

"_No Dean," he said, leaning down to press his forehead against mine. "It's okay."_

_And he kissed me, pressing his lips softly against mine. I sighed, peacefulness washing over me. Cas smiled down at me, pulling my now limp body even closer to his._

"_Close your eyes Dean, everything will be alright."_

_I didn't want to, but his hand came down over my eyes and I shut them, the sound of snarling and tearing filling my ears._

_And everything went white, images of Cas on the ground, his face that of a heron, gasping for breath as that little Castiel, his red wings dark with evil, stood over him with blood stained hands flashing through my mind._

_Blood._

_Cas._

_No._

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I opened my eyes to a hospital room, dark and with Sam quietly asleep in the chair next to me. A machine next to me beeped softly, keeping track of my fluttering heartbeat. I held up a hand to inspect and was relieved to my scarred adult hand.

Sam stirred and blearily opened his eyes, shooting up when he saw that I was awake.

"Dean!"

But his voice was muffled, like I was listening to him through a wall. I confusedly put a hand up to my ear and found gauze. Sam frowned at my attention to it and batted my hand away.

"Don't touch. Your eardrums were toast. I had to take you in. I can't fix internal stuff."

I nodded and immediately wished I hadn't. The room spun around me and I felt my eyes roll back, but I refused to pass out. I couldn't handle seeing Cas again.

"So, why aren't you in the bed next to me?" I asked. Sam shrugged.

"It thundered, but it wasn't that loud. It knocked you out though, you kept screaming about voices Dean."

"Cas," I said, sighing tiredly. "I-I saw him. We were in some weird other dimension or whatever. We were just kids, but there was something wrong. He was fighting himself."

Sam raised his eyebrow. "You think he's trying to reach you?"

"I don't know Sammy."

I don't even know if it was real.

I opened my hand and out fell a long, midnight blue feather.

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End Track four. Please flip over to continue.

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	5. If Living

_Tape Five_

"_Vicariously I, live while the whole world dies/You all feel the same so/Why can't we just admit it?"_

_~ Tool "Vicarious"_

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"Alright now Mr…Smith. I don't want you doing anything, _anything, _strenuous for at least another week once you get home. Understood?"

I glared up at the doctor, a middle-aged man about fifty or so, with harsh frown lines around his mouth and dark, serious eyes.

"Fine."

He reached out and flicked my forehead, causing me to tilt back in surprise.

"Hey! I thought doctors promised to harm none!"

"Oh stop complaining. You're the fastest healer I've ever seen and I think it's out of sheer stubbornness. Now, Sam," he said, rolling his eyes and turning to my brother.

"You make sure he doesn't get in any other shooting accident you hear me? The fool's gonna make himself go deaf."

"Yes sir," said Sam, grinning maniacally over at me. Sadist.

"Alright then, you can leave anytime you want, but I'm tired of dealing with your obstinate brother, so the sooner the better."

I couldn't help but grin at the grumpy doctor. I'm sure he and Bobby were related somehow.

"What're you smilin' at? Go on now, git!"

I pulled on my jacket, zipping it up to my neck. It had been getting cooler of late and my ears were now super sensitive to any change in temperature. Sam reached over and plunked a knit cap over my head. I glared at him, taking a swipe at his hair, which was growing in nicely now since his incident1.

"I guess this is revenge, huh?"

"No, just karma."

I grinned and followed him out to the Impala. My sweet baby car. I hadn't been able to drive her for very long, and she shone glossy black, smelling like the familiar, yet mysterious, scent of leather and tobacco smoke.

"Dean, please, you're not driving."

"What? I resent that!"

"Oh shut it. You can barely walk straight, so no; I'd rather not die in a fiery inferno of steel and outdated metal."

I didn't dignify that with an answer and simply scowled at him as I slid into the passenger seat. Sam started the engine and I leaned against the passenger window, my breath forming a mist over the glass. I reached up and swirled my finger on it, finding myself drawing a feather. Like the crumpled indigo one in my coat pocket.

"Dean, you okay man?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine Sammy."

He turned the heat on and I looked outside, noticing that the leaves had started to change color. The barest hint of yellow could be seen amongst the green. I felt myself nodding off as the Impala rumbled along and despite my fear of what I might see, I closed my eyes.

Hand still tightly clenched around the feather in my pocket.

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_Fire!_

_Fire everywhere!_

_Mommy screaming, screaming for John. He could feel the heat growing closer, closer! Run! Run away!_

_A wail._

_Sam._

_Sammy!_

_I have to protect Sam!_

_Suddenly Daddy was there, holding out a squirming bundle and I held out my arms without thinking._

"_Here, take your brother outside, don't look back! Now Dean! Go!"_

_And I ran down the hallway, but took my time with the stairs. Sam was fussing, squirming as I felt the fire grow bigger, the smoke starting to fill the house. I finally reached the bottom of the staircase and ran outside into the blessedly cool night air._

"_It's okay Sammy it's-"_

"_Is that what you think?"_

_I turned, stumbling back. Sam let out a startled cry and I held him close as I looked up at the figure. Glowing yellow eyes stared back._

"_You couldn't stop me then! You couldn't stop me even if you wanted to!"_

"_No."_

"_Maybe I'll go pay that little angel of yours a visit!"_

_I rocked my brother, trying to soothe him as well as myself. He wasn't real. I killed him. I killed him!_

"_Go pluck his pretty little wings?"_

"_NO!"_

_Dean!_

"Dean!"

I opened my eyes to see a concerned Sam shaking my shoulder, cars whipping by us on the road. We were pulled over on the shoulder, the trees above us making the air dark and gloomy.

"What the hell? Sam are you-?"

"I'm fine Dean, its okay. You had a nightmare."

_Flames curling around his whole world, dissolving all that he knew, all that he loved, into ashes._

I clutched at my head, wincing why my hand grazed my right ear.

"Shit."

"That bad huh?"

I just shook my head waving his hand away. "Just drive Sam. I'll feel better."

"Okay."

He didn't do anything else, just patiently took the parking brake off and swung back onto the road. The soothing rumble of the Impala calmed me down the further we got until we began to shake and role as Sam turned into the gravel driveway that led to Bobby's nearest hideout. Before Sam could run around the other side of the car, I got out, breathing in the chilly September air. My heart calmed the memories of blistering heat and golden flames fading as the air blew over me.

"Dean, c'mon. You don't need to be out in the cold."

"Okay, _mother," _I bit back, instantly regretting it. His green eyes watched me suspiciously as I made my way into the cabin. I hopped over the back of the couch and settled in, turning on the TV. Sam came in a few moments later, slapping my hands away from my ears, which had picked that particular moment to itch worse than a secret.

"Don't touch. And if I see you, I'll tie you to the kitchen chair."

"Oh shut up. You won't do shit."

"Dean, it's not a joke. Stop treating it like one! You were out for a goddamn week!"

And an image of a child Sam, only about eight or so, screaming at me with tears running down his face because I had left him at the motel so I could be by myself.

"Alright Sam. Okay."

He gave me surprised look, but calmed down, sitting at the end of the couch by my feet. I kicked him.

He shoved me and I twisted, tried to hang on to the couch, failed, and flailed onto the floor.

"Oh my God Dean!"

I just sighed and laid back, too tired to give damn.

About anything.

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_I was back in that place. The marsh with the tall grass, the beautiful beach and the endless field of sunset colored poppies._

_But this time was different._

_Everything was washed out, faded, like a pair of jeans that was gray instead of blue. I took a step forward and cursed. I wasn't eight anymore, but twelve wasn't much better. Missouri had been right, I had been one goofy looking kid. Then I noticed something else._

_I was alone._

_There was no Cas to greet me this time, no beautiful indigo wings to protect and guide me. I took another step forward into the marsh, towards the field, and felt my foot sink into mud with a disgusting 'squealch!'_

"_Son of a Bitch!" I swore, pulling my foot out and hurrying through the mud riddled grass. Nothing worse than stepping in something gross barefoot. Thankfully, the marsh let me through and I was once again in stepping through the carpet of poppies, the open sky over my head._

"_Dean!"_

_I turned and there was Cas. Only…_

"_Your wings!" I cried out as he drew closer. They looked awful, covered in gashes with big, raw pink spots where feathers had been torn out._

"_Do not worry Dean. I am well enough," said Cas, smiling. It was the face I knew, not the magnificent four- featured creature from before. This was my Cas._

_He reached down and put a hand on my shoulder and I was instantly full-grown, bad knee and everything. Cas carded his fingers through my hair and I smiled._

"_It's good to see you."_

"_And I you Dean."_

"_Y'know, I never asked last time, where are we?"_

"_The Dream World."_

_I raised an eyebrow. "Is that a new addition to Disney or…?"_

_Cas chuckled, sitting down in the midst of the poppies and patting the ground beside him. I sat, and the sun overhead seemed to brighten just a bit._

"_No Dean. This is where angels go when we die. Angels cannot go to Hell unless we are cast down. We are not monsters, and thus not destined for Purgatory. We are a manifestation of God's dreams. He made you, you are his children. We are part of Him; our grace is a little piece of his power. When we die, we are granted a part of this realm, our own little Heaven you could say."_

_I looked around, noting the still washed-out look of the place._

"_Not a very friendly Heaven. Monsters and emo decoration and all."_

"_Dreams can be wonderful; Dean, but often they reveal what we do not wish to know."_

"_Well, it's a good thing I'm not an angel."_

_Cas reached out and touched my face and I flinched away in surprise. Cas drew back with a little jump of his own._

"_I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were real, and not just another illusion."_

"_Nope, all me. I'm here Cas," I said, reaching and putting his hand back on my face._

"_Good I-"_

_And a roaring suddenly filled the air and Cas was on his feet in a second, tugging me along._

"_Come Dean, we must go. NOW!"_

_The roar turned into an ear-splitting shriek and I heard the flap of vicious wings, slicing through the air with deadly accuracy._

"_Quick, under here!" Cas exclaimed, hurrying me under a low-growing tree, it's thick and ancient branches shielding us from the sky. We backed up until we were pressed against the trunk._

_I heard the creature flying over, screeching again, before it turned and flew off. I turned to the angel._

"_What the fuck was that?"_

"_My other self. My innermost, darkest part of my being. It has haunted me, it-"_

_Crash!_

_The creature had landed atop the tree, tearing at its branches. Cas pulled me close and folded his wings around us to shield us from the debris falling from overhead. We stared up, too horrified to look away. Cruel, terrifyingly cruel blue eyes stared back hate burning within them. Blood-red wings flapped in fury, black talons clawed with hate as the other-Cas shrieked and screamed obscenities and curses in enochian, making my ears ring._

"_Dean Winchester is MINE!" he screamed at Cas, hissing and spitting. "You shall not have him! YOU SHALL NOT!"_

_But the tree held true and every time the other-Cas tore off a branch, another grew in its place. Cas kept his wings around us, his arms tight in fear as he faced off with his other-self. I reached up and pulled his face towards me._

"_Look. Look at me. That thing isn't you, not the real you. You are not a monster Cas. You're __**not a monster**__."_

_And with a final screech, the other-Cas disappeared. Cas relaxed, turning his faced down to look at me. He was taller than me here, and it bothered me, but I just pulled him down so his head rested on my shoulder._

"_This is your dream Cas. It doesn't have to be a nightmare."_

"_Will you stay with me?"_

_Here was Cas. The angel of the Lord. The most powerful creature I had ever come across. The baddest motherfucker in town. An archangel later on. God. A goddamn hurricane of celestial might, asking me, a tired, worn-out, useless son-of-a-bitch to stay and keep him company._

"_Okay."_

_And I sat with him until the surrounding started to fade and I could hear the physical world calling._

_Calling my name._

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_End Tape Five._

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